Rest

On me to rest, my bird, my bird:

The swaying branches of my heart

Are blown by every wind toward

The home whereto their wings depart.

Build not your nest, my bird, on me;

I know no peace but ever sway:

O lovely bird, be free, be free,

On the wild music of the day.

But sometimes when your wings would rest,

And winds are laid on quiet eves:

Come, I will bear you breast to breast,

And lap you close with loving leaves.